Chapter 30: Everyone Has Secrets

Li Lin returned to Shangtikou Village from the county town by evening and saw the Tree Immortal Lady pacing near the village entrance.

The Tree Immortal Lady spotted him then turned and drifted away slowly.

Her long green serpent tail swished back and forth before Li Lin’s eyes.

Li Lin hurried after her, walking behind the Tree Immortal Lady, and asked with a smile: “Are you waiting for me, Tree Immortal Lady?”

The Tree Immortal Lady said nothing, returning to the altar and vanishing from sight.

Hmph, so prideful!

Li Lin smiled and returned to his home.

The house had remained untouched in his absence—nothing had been moved or disturbed.

He opened the wardrobe and checked: the six ingots of gold gifted by Wang Tianyou were still inside.

He stretched, then lay down on the bed and fell asleep.

These past days had been spent constantly on the move, with threats to his life, his emotions stretched taut, swinging wildly—he was utterly exhausted.

He slept straight through until noon the next day.

Just as he was about to step into the yard for some movement, he saw Zhao Xiaohu waiting outside the fence.

“Lin Ge!”

Zhao Xiaohu was delighted to see Li Lin.

His complexion had improved greatly, which puzzled Li Lin.

According to his estimate, Zhao Xiaohu had been targeted twice by the Apparition’s Soul-Calling Spell; his body should have been severely depleted, yet he had recovered far faster than expected.

Could this kid actually be talented?

“Xiaohu, how has the village been while I was away?”

“Same as always!” Zhao Xiaohu grinned. “Many people heard the wandering ghost here was gone thanks to Lin Ge, and they want to come back.”

Li Lin blinked: “So I’ll be moving again soon, then!”

“Not necessary,” Zhao Xiaohu lowered his voice. “The people who lived in this house before vanished after they moved out—no one knows where they went.”

Oh.

Li Lin stopped worrying about it—he looked at Zhao Xiaohu and suddenly said: “I’m going to cook some blood rice. Come eat some too.”

“That’s not right—it’s for Spirit Hunters,” Zhao Xiaohu said, though he was curious about the taste, he shook his head.

“Try it. I think you might have the talent to become a Spirit Hunter.”

“Really?” Zhao Xiaohu’s eyes lit up.

“Come in.”

“Yes, yes!” Zhao Xiaohu entered and immediately said: “Lin Ge, let me wash the rice and cook for you.”

He chattered excitedly.

“Fine, you cook.”

Li Lin was happy to take a break.

Soon, the blood rice was ready.

It strongly invigorates the blood and qi—ordinary people shouldn’t eat much; Li Lin only served him a small half-bowl.

Zhao Xiaohu lifted the bowl with almost reverent care, chewing each grain slowly.

Soon after, he finished the half-bowl of blood rice.

Then he sat quietly, tense, waiting for Li Lin’s “judgment.”

After a while, sweat broke out on Zhao Xiaohu’s forehead, and his face flushed slightly.

Li Lin nodded: Zhao Xiaohu did have the talent to become a Spirit Hunter—but only barely, just enough to pass.

The first step to becoming a Spirit Hunter is being able to digest and withstand the effects of blood rice.

An ordinary person eating this half-bowl would experience a violent surge of blood and qi, jumping around, desperate to vent energy.

Sitting still is the mark of passing.

The second step is checking whether the body can accommodate Yin energy.

Li Lin pressed his fingers against Zhao Xiaohu’s left pulse and guided a bit of Yin energy inside.

Zhao Xiaohu shivered, but then showed no further reaction.

Mediocre.

If the two basic entrance tests were scored out of a hundred, Zhao Xiaohu barely passed—just above sixty.

He could become a Spirit Hunter, but his potential was limited.

By the way, Li Lin’s own scores in both tests hovered around eighty-five.

One score of eighty-five seems merely good—not remarkable.

But two scores of eighty-five? That’s excellent.

Meaning he had no weaknesses—he would grow into a perfect six-stat warrior.

Xu Saifeng, whom Li Lin had killed, was more receptive to Yin energy but had weak blood and qi; once an opponent got close, she couldn’t even defeat a novice like Li Lin.

Li Lin looked at Zhao Xiaohu, who was both hopeful and nervous, and said: “You’re in.”

“Really?” Zhao Xiaohu leapt up, spinning around the room shouting: “I can become a Spirit Hunter! I can become a Spirit Hunter!”

Li Lin smiled, waiting until Zhao Xiaohu calmed down, then said: “Go get Zhao Shu.”

Yes, yes!

Zhao Xiaohu nodded vigorously and dashed off, clearly ecstatic.

Soon after, Zhao Shu hurried over, while Zhao Xiaohu waited outside the yard.

Adults discuss matters—children aren’t allowed to listen.

Zhao Shu sat across from Li Lin, his expression a mix of joy and tension.

“Does Xiaohu really have the talent to become a Spirit Hunter?”

Li Lin nodded slightly: “He does. I confirmed it just now.”

Before practicing the Yin Nurturing Scripture, Li Lin couldn’t have confirmed it—he had no Yin energy himself, so how could he test others?

But now he could.

Zhao Shu’s expression darkened; he sighed, clearly hesitant.

Li Lin said: “Spirit Hunters have the duty to discover and train those with talent, but you know well—the mortality rate among Spirit Hunters is extremely high.”

Zhao Shu nodded.

Spirit Hunters are deeply respected among common folk; ordinary people avoid conflict with them at all costs.

But Spirit Hunters also bear the duty to guard their territories.

Like Li Lin, new recruits are assigned to villages like Shangtikou.

“I can guide Xiaohu into the path—I can even teach him fist techniques, spear skills, and the Spirit-Controlling Scripture,” Li Lin smiled. “His circumstances are far better than mine were.”

“But he doesn’t have your talent, does he?” Zhao Shu asked quietly.

Li Lin hesitated, then nodded.

It was the truth—no need to hide it. Honesty lets others make the right choice.

“Can I think about it some more?”

“Of course,” Li Lin smiled. “But… Xiaohu isn’t Wu Shen’s child, is he?”

Zhao Shu stared at Li Lin, disbelief in his eyes: “How do you know?”

“The wandering ghost outside the village, just before she died, said something interesting,” Li Lin said calmly. “She said she missed Xiaohu, missed her child. But that didn’t make sense—the village elder said that ghost had existed over thirty years ago, while Xiaohu is only thirteen. Something’s off.”

“Nothing’s off,” Zhao Shu sighed. “Xiaohu is her child—the ghost’s child.”

Li Lin narrowed his eyes, then instinctively leaned back and drew a sharp breath.

Zhao Shu was a Death Knight!

“Then Wu Shen…”

“Wu Shen soaked in water daily as a girl, planting rice and washing clothes. Later, it damaged her bones—doctors said she had severe uterine cold and couldn’t conceive.”

Li Lin listened silently.

“Then one day…” Zhao Shu whispered, “I got drunk. The villagers mocked me for having no son, no eggs. I went outside and raged. Half-asleep, I… slept with that ghost. Three months later, on a certain night, she called my name at the village entrance and gave me Xiaohu.”

“Does everyone in the village know this?”

“No one knows,” Zhao Shu smiled. “When Xiaohu appeared suddenly, I told them I begged the Tree Immortal Lady, and she used her magic to grant us a child.”

With Xiaohu’s big beard and face just like Zhao Shu’s, no one doubted they were father and son.

Li Lin fell silent, then asked: “I killed her—the ghost. Do you hate me?”

Zhao Shu shook his head: “She still had some awareness at first, but grew increasingly mad, killing villagers one after another. Now she even wanted to take Xiaohu—I’ve long seen her as an enemy.”

“Let’s return to Xiaohu,” Li Lin tapped the table lightly, emphasizing his words. “His body can hold Yin energy—he’s more easily noticed by ghosts. As a virgin with strong blood and qi, he’s fine for now, but once he marries and has children… he’ll be constantly haunted. Becoming a Spirit Hunter frees him from this, but being a Spirit Hunter brings its own troubles.”

Zhao Shu sat in silence for a long time, then said: “I’ll talk to Wu Shen again.”

“Alright.”

Li Lin rose and saw the father and son off, then picked up his straw hat, bamboo basket, and hoe—he needed to go up the mountain to dig more “weeds” for pill-making.

He’d already consumed over half his Shengxi Pills—he needed to prepare in advance.

He carried the hoe into the hills, walked a long circuit, and his basket was now full of medicinal herbs.

Just as he turned to return to the village, he spotted a graveyard with fresh soil scattered around.

He walked over and confirmed: a new grave had been robbed.

The tombstone read: Tomb of Wu Jia Xiuniang.

He looked down into the grave cave and saw the coffin had been opened; Xiuniang’s bones lay inside.

But... on the bones lay a brown, dry, paper-like scrap.

What is this thing?

(End of Chapter)